


Still Turning Out

by carryaworld



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sugawara makes a fleeting appearance, This is mostly angst, with a lil fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryaworld/pseuds/carryaworld
Summary: Hajime's father is in a serious accident and Oikawa is the one person he can always lean on.





	Still Turning Out

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, back at it again. I think I listened to Turning Out by AJR like 10 times writing this thing. Please excuse the typos, work has fried my brain and I wanted to get this thing up here. Happy early holidays <3

Hajime’s mother rarely calls him in the middle of the day. She knows he’s in class, knows that he’s busy struggling his way through his first semester as a college student.

 

So when her contact image pops up on his phone screen, he excuses himself from the lecture and steps outside to take the call.

 

“Hajime,” his mother says into the phone before he can even get in a greeting. “Your father has been in an accident, I need you to come home.”

 

Her voice is raspy and raw from crying, and Hajime knows it’s bad.

 

“Is he—” he cuts himself off, and is ashamed of himself for both asking and for being afraid of the answer.

 

“They’re not sure he’s going to make it,” she whispers and Hajime’s eyes shutter.

 

“It’ll be okay. Send me the address, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

He keeps his voice level, forces himself to keep it together because he knows she needs him to. It’s just the three of them, and they’ve always stuck together.

 

“I love you,” his mother chokes out.

 

“I love you too.”

 

The line goes dead and Hajime wants to curl in on himself in the middle of the hallway. Instead, he adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and starts moving. His thumbs start moving of his own accord, sending out emails to professors letting them know he won’t be in class.

 

A text goes to his coach, and then another to the team captain that he’ll be missing practice. They’re all tasks that need to be completed in this bubble of calm he’s existing in before reality finally hits him.

 

It’s only when he crosses the threshold into his apartment and starts throwing an overnight bag together than everything breaks. The tears run silently down his face as he reaches for his phone, dialing on instinct.

 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa greets him, unusually sober.

 

Hajime can’t help but be relieved that he doesn’t have to say the words aloud.

  
“You know?”

 

Oikawa hums an assent. “My mom called me. She’s with yours right now.”

 

He pauses, and Hajime can practically hear him thinking. “I’m sorry, Hajime. I’m so sorry.”

 

Swiping tears from his cheeks, Hajime snags his bags and heads for the door, phone tucked between his shoulder and his cheek.

 

“I’m heading home now.”

 

“I’m coming too,” Oikawa says, and Hajime growls.

 

“Don’t be a dumbass, you can’t skip class.”

 

“You’re skipping class,” is the retort. “And he’s practically my father too.”

 

“I know, but one of us should make it to classes,” Hajime says, and hears Oikawa’s defeated sigh.

 

“Fine. Call me tonight?”

 

“I’ll call you tonight, and if anything changes,” Hajime promises.

 

“You’d better.” A pause. “He’ll be okay, Hajime. He’ll be okay.”

 

“I really hope so,” Hajime whispers.

 

Not for the first time, Hajime finds himself wishing that they hadn’t gone to different universities. He knows, logically, that they chose the schools that were best for their futures, but god does he need his best friend right now. Maybe more than best friend.

 

The train ride home is the longest it’s ever been.

 

*

 

Hajime forces himself to breathe even though it feels like the universe has a stranglehold on his throat.

 

He’s not one to panic, he can’t afford to be with a best friend like Oikawa, but right now everything in his mind is screaming at him. There are things he should do: be strong and comfort his mother, and things he wants to do: hide and let the sobs that he’s holding down rip their way out of him.

 

But all he _can_ do at the moment is stand frozen three steps outside of the sliding automatic doors of the hospital.

 

Everything is muted out here. The bustle of the hospital that has become so familiar over the last few days is remote, only reoccurring when someone else steps out and the doors briefly allow some noise to pass through.

 

Hajime can’t do anything. His father is dead, his mother is grieving, and Hajime can’t do anything.

 

A hand, callused and familiar, drops onto his shoulder, and before he knows it lanky arms are around him. Hajime crumbles.

 

Oikawa, for all of his trashy personality, is the only person that knows him well enough to able to provide some semblance of comfort to him right now.

 

Hajime clings to him, burying his face into the shoulder of Oikawa’s jacket, soaking it through. He can feel Oikawa’s tears trickling down his own neck and hears the hitches in his friend’s breathing.

 

The Oikawa and Iwaizumi families are so close that sometimes Hajime swears they’re just one giant mess squished together. The Oikawa’s have lived around the block for as long as he can remember, and his parents are close friends with Oikawa’s.

 

Oikawa’s parents are probably here somewhere, hopefully with Hajime’s mother. Even if Hajime can’t pull himself together, at least she’s not alone.

 

“C’mon,” Oikawa says, in Hajime’s ear. “I’m taking you home. You and your mom.”

 

Hajime grits his teeth and shakes his head, chafing his forehead against Oikawa’s collarbone.

 

“I can’t. I can’t leave him here like that.”

 

A hand comes up and hangs onto a fistful of the back of Hajime’s shirt.

 

“It’s over, Hajime. He’s at peace now,” Oikawa says softly, his voice gentle in a way that Hajime rarely hears. “It’s time to go home. You need to eat and sleep.”

 

It’s strange, hearing his given name off Oikawa’s lips so frequently lately. They generally don’t use given names unless things are serious, and things have been far too serious. Hajime knows Oikawa is right, but this loss is hard to process.

 

“Are you my mom, Tooru-chan?” he mumbles, desperate for a distraction.

 

He half-hopes that when he wakes tomorrow, this will all have been a dream.

 

“Ha, so funny Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, his voice a touch nasally from crying.

 

He wriggles free of Hajime’s grip, only to take ahold of Hajime’s hand instead. “Okay? We’re gonna go find your mom.”

 

All Hajime can do is nod and let Oikawa lead him. Most people might think that this is a drastic role-reversal, but Hajime has always relied on Oikawa as much as Oikawa relies on him. They’re in sync in a way that even different colleges and space between can’t disrupt.

 

Whilst fine on their own, they’re always better together. And today, Hajime can borrow some of Oikawa’s strength. Nothing exists beyond the slender setter’s fingers, a place he’s learned to call home.

 

*

 

True to his word, Oikawa takes Hajime and his mother home, though to the Oikawa household rather than their own.

 

Dinner is cooked for them, and Oikawa’s mother is so painfully kind that Hajime wants to start crying all over again. Hajime’s mother is given the guest room to sleep in, as Oikawa’s sister has long moved out, and Hajime follows Oikawa automatically to his room.

 

They robotically go through their usual routine for sleepovers until Oikawa disrupts the rhythm by not getting out the extra futon.

 

“Tooru?” Hajime says blearily, too exhausted and raw to deal with these changes.

 

Oikawa ignores him slides into bed, holding up the covers in an invitation for Hajime to join him. They haven’t shared a bed in a long time, with Oikawa’s knee injury being the exception, but Hajime climbs in next to him anyway. He’s in no position to turn down physical comfort.

 

Arms enclose him with uncharacteristic shyness and Hajime relaxes into the embrace, letting all the air empty from his lungs. His head is pounding from all the crying he’s done today, but his tears have run dry for now.

 

“Thank you,” he breathes.

 

Oikawa presses his forehead lightly against Hajime’s in response. He smells like the shampoo he’s used since their first year of high school and that underlying bit of _Tooru_ that’s as familiar as the scent of Hajime’s home.

 

“Get some sleep,” Oikawa murmurs. “I’ll push you out if you snore.”

 

“I’ll punch you if you drool,” Hajime retorts, curling further into the comfort of Oikawa’s arms.

 

It’s a transgression he wouldn’t normally allow his traitorous heart, but everything hurts and this takes off the edge.

 

He doesn’t sleep well, but each time he wakes up with a broken cry on his lips Oikawa is there, rubbing circles on his back and gripping his hands tightly.

 

*

 

The funeral is a miserable experience.

 

Hanamaki and Matuskawa come with some of their Aoba Josai teammates in a show of support, practically crushing Hajime in a hug. They’re a welcome sight, and the youngsters still living in the area volunteer to help his mother with yard chores when he’s at university.

 

Hajime doesn’t know what he’d do without his team. His university teammates have been collecting his class notes for him and send texts to check on him.

  
For most of the day, Oikawa is on one side of him and his mother on the other. They’re the brackets that hold him up, and he does his best to support them in return.

 

The worst part of it all is that when it’s over they all have to return to some semblance of normal. Oikawa returns to university first, after making Hajime swear up and down that he’ll call every night. Then it’s Hajime’s turn, and Oikawa’s mother promises to spend as much as she can with Hajime’s mother.

 

“She won’t be alone, I promise Hajime-kun,” she says quietly, squeezing his hands with her much smaller ones.

 

“I’ll be home as often as I can,” Hajime says, because he can’t help but feel guilty.

 

Leaving his mother to go back to university this time is tearing him apart.

 

Oikawa-san’s smile is sad. “You’re a good son, but you have a life to live too, my dear.”

 

Moisture pricks at Hajime’s eyes and he nods, not trusting himself to be able to speak around the lump in his throat. The hardest part is that life goes on. He’s not sure things will ever feel quite right again.

 

*

 

_A few months later_

 

It’s taken them time to be okay enough to go through his father’s things. Once the funeral was out of the way, the thought of sorting through and donating his father’s stuff was too much.

 

The loss is a little more muted now, though Hajime feels it like a permanent ache in his chest.

 

“He wanted to see you get married and have a family,” his mother says quietly as they sift through boxes.

 

Hajime has been metaphorically punched in the chest so many times in the last few months that the hit barely registers.

 

His father will never get to see him truly grown up. Hajime intentionally never allowed himself much thought towards romantic relationships, as it elicits dangerous thoughts about a certain idiot with a trashy personality. But this drags it all back again.

 

She’s holding a picture of him, his father, and Oikawa where the two of them were about six or seven. It was a day he’d taken them out adventuring in the woods to try and channel their endless energy. In the picture, Hajime has a bug net over his shoulder, scowling as a beaming Oikawa pinches his cheek.

 

He can hear Oikawa’s voice in his head, chiding ‘Smile Hajime!’

 

“You two have always been so close,” his mother observes. “I can’t imagine a world where the pair of you aren’t together.”

 

It’s a seemingly innocent comment, but Hajime can hear the meaning in her tone, echoing the steady thrum that’s been in his heart longer than he’s willing to acknowledge.

 

When they first departed for separate colleges, he and Oikawa called each other at least twice a week and texted throughout the day. Since his father has passed, hardly a day goes by where Hajime doesn’t call or skype with his best friend.

 

Oikawa is doing it intentionally, that much is obvious. Hajime is grateful that Oikawa knows him well enough not to let him spend a lot of time on his own. The void in his chest isn’t as bad as it first was, but time is the only thing that can heal a loss like that. Time, and the unfailing and persistent love of those closest to him.

 

“Am I being an idiot about this?” he asks his mother, rubbing his thumb over the corner of a picture of them from middle school. “I don’t love anyone like I love Oikawa Tooru.”

 

There’s a hint of sadness in her smile, but his mother regards him with boundless affection.

 

“Your father and I had a running bet, you know, as to which of you would figure it out and do something. He always thought that Tooru-kun would be the one to do it,” she says.

 

Hajime blinks and then scowls. “I can’t believe you guys.”

 

“What?” his mother shrugs. “You’ve been hopelessly in love with Tooru since you were like, ten. He’s just as hopelessly in love back. Not all of us are blind, you know.”

 

Ducking his head, Hajime lets this wash over him. Have they really been that stupidly oblivious all this time?

 

All the girls that Oikawa turned down ‘because I need to focus on volleyball, Iwa-chan,’ all the nights spent between just the two of them…

 

“He wanted you to be happy, Hajime. So be happy,” his mother whispers.

 

“I’ll try,” he promises. “I’ll try.”

 

*

 

Two nights later he shows up at Oikawa’s apartment unannounced, rapping twice on the door. It’s answered not by Oikawa, but by his roommate Sugawara Koushi.

 

The arrangement is that Oikawa lives with Suga and Hajime lives with Daichi, since the respective universities they chose played out perfectly. It works well for them. Oikawa and Suga get along, and Daichi is a very nice roommate.

 

“He’s at the gym,” Suga tells him with a wry twist of his mouth. “I take it he doesn’t know you’re here?”

 

Hajime shakes his head. “I’ll go get him before he overworks himself.”

 

Suga just smiles. “He’s been a lot better about it. I think he doesn’t want you to worry about him.”

 

“Idiot, I’ll always worry about him.”

 

“Just like he’s been worrying about you,” Suga says sagely. “Go get your man, Iwaizumi.”

 

“You go get _your_ man,” Hajime retorts sourly as he turns away from the door. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Daichi making doe eyes at each other.”

 

Suga, curse him, just laughs. “I’m working on it. Now go, I’ll make myself scarce before you get back.”

 

“Thanks Suga,” Hajime mumbles, and heads for the gym.

 

Oikawa is slamming serves over the net when Hajime pushes the door open. He pauses, waiting until Oikawa’s feet are solidly on the ground before calling out his name. Oikawa freezes and turns, lips parted in shock.

 

“Iwa-chan, what are you doing here? Are you okay?”

 

With those damn long legs of his, it only takes Oikawa four strides to get to Hajime. His eyes are bright and worried, and it sends a ripple of _something_ down Hajime’s spine.

 

“I’m here to make sure you’re not being an idiot,” he says reflexively, and then amends, “I need to talk to you.”

 

Oikawa’s brows pinch together but he nods, giving Hajime’s shoulder a companionable bump. “Help me clean up?”

 

“Why am I always cleaning up your messes, Trashykawa?” Hajime complains.

 

Oikawa scoops up a volleyball and lobs it at Hajime. Hajime ducks, scowling, and before he knows it they’re engaged in full on war. Oikawa is cackling madly, and they go until Hajime lands one directly to Oikawa’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

 

“You’re so mean, Iwa-chan,” he wheezes from where he lays on the gym floor, splayed out in all his gangly glory.

 

Hajime lowers himself down onto the gym floor next to Oikawa, letting the lightness of the moment settle into his soul.

 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Oikawa drawls, shooting for casual but betraying his nerves by not meeting Hajime’s gaze.

 

It takes Hajime a moment to come up with the words.

 

“My mom and I were going through my dad’s things the other day,” he begins. “And I realized that I’ve been waiting for something I’ve had this entire time.”

 

Oikawa makes an enquiring noise and Hajime draws a breath. He can do this. His mother was right when she encouraged him to chase happiness while he still has the chance.

 

“I love you, Oikawa Tooru,” he says. “I’ve loved you since before I could truly understand what that meant.”

 

There’s no time for him to fret about what just came out of his mouth because Oikawa knocks him flat against the floor with a kiss. It’s clumsy and they’re both a little breathless, but all Hajime can think is _finally._

 

When they finally break for air, Hajime has an unapologetically sweaty Oikawa pinning him to the hardwood. Their foreheads are resting together, close enough that Hajime has to go a bit cross-eyed to look at him.

 

“I love you too,” Oikawa murmurs.

 

It should feel like a big deal, but Hajime just feels quiet. Peaceful.

 

They take their time actually cleaning up and then set off for home.

 

“I realized after your dad died,” Oikawa says quietly on their walk back to his apartment. “Seeing you in that much pain… it was hard not to understand. But you were healing, and it didn’t feel right to bring up my feelings then.”

 

“We’re idiots,” Hajime mutters, leaning into the arm Oikawa has draped around his shoulders.

 

Oikawa opens his mouth to protest but breaks off into a laugh. “That’s probably fair.”

 

He presses a kiss to the side of Hajime’s head and it makes Hajime turn an awesome shade of red.

 

“Aweeeee is Iwa-chan shy?” Oikawa hums gleefully.

 

“Stop taking advantage of your height,” Hajime complains. “And you can just call me Hajime.”

 

“Nah, Iwa-chan, I think I’ll keep you on your toes.”

 

“Brat,” Hajime huffs without any heat.

 

Oikawa might be a brat, but he’s also intelligent, thoughtful, and everything Hajime could ever want. His train of thought is interrupted by the soft press of Oikawa’s lips against his, and he gladly lets himself get carried away in the kiss.

 

Hajime thinks his dad is probably pretty happy for them right now.

**Author's Note:**

> as per usual, you can come yell with me on tumblr @carry-a-world (I'm going down with that hell site, dammit).


End file.
